


feathers and fi-

by V (VVCaspian)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 17:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVCaspian/pseuds/V
Summary: a unique experience brought forth from a frightening one





	1. 01

Fire. Lots of fire. Shouts, and yells.

 

I can’t find them.     


 

Absolute hell. 

 

Smoke. Can’t breath.

 

Black. 

 

Nothing. 

 

Absolutely nothing.

 

No sound. No life. No smell. No nothing.

 

Absolutely Nothing.


	2. 02

Darkness. Suddenly, my eyes fly open. Only to meet ones that seem to be burning into mine.

 

Pain, but I was too captivated. Mesmerizing blue eyes, one of blue flames.

 

Never, ever, have I seen eyes like of those.

 

Ever.

 

They look like my sis- 

 

Pain. Pain. 

 

I wish my mo- 

 

More pain.

 

Where are my family? Where is everyone?   


 

So much  _ pain _ . Then darkness.


	3. 03

Sounds. Faint noises, from above me.

 

‘Is she going to be okay?’

 

‘I don’t know, she lost so much.’

 

Me. They were talking about me. 

 

Who were they, though?


	4. 04

Light. Blinding white light. Hospital light.

 

Too much light.

 

I whimpered, the light burning my eyes. 

 

Through my squinted eyes, I saw a man in a white coat, his eyes wide and jaw dropped.

 

‘ _ It hurts _ ,’ I say, my voice in a hoarse whisper.

 

Black again. 

 

And I welcome it with open arms.


	5. 05

Can’t see what’s in front of me.

 

Know it’s there.

 

Feeling, light touches.

 

Why does this comfort hurt?


	6. 06

Humming. 

 

I hear humming.

 

It’s familiar. 

 

Something my moth-

 

_ Pain- blistering pain. _

 

Maybe I should stop thinking about them now. 

 

It hurts.


	7. 07

Metallic. 

 

My mouth…

 

It tastes metallic. Feels dry.

 

Water?  _I can't remember it down my throat._

 

Have my lips touched it yet?


	8. 08

Coffee. I can smell it. 

 

Surprise, surprise. It doesn’t hurt to remember that.

 

It’s stale, nothing like the rich, aromatic scent my fath-

 

_ Ouch.  _


	9. 09

I can feel everything around me. Hear, too. And smell, and taste. 

 

My vision, seems like it’s not coming back. 

 

I tried to get control over my lungs-

 

Breath in.

 

Breath out.

 

My vocals played a discord. My eyes fluttered open, and I see a button, neon yellow, and my fingers press it. Why is the button that yellow? It makes my eyes hurt. 

 

The door opens, and I see a frantic air around the quick footed doctor. 

 

My internal clock lures me into sleep, but I manage to say-

 

‘ _ Hi. _ ’


	10. 10

Dreams, nothing like before, where darkness took over, but dreams of light, and indiscernible faces, and fleeting ghosts of touches.

 

And, light. Not my dreams. 

 

It doesn’t hurt to look up, into the comforting violet ceiling, and my eyes move slowly, achingly, towards- oh look. A human.

 

My fingers twitch, and my entire body wakes up. It’s like pins and needles. Ow ow ow ow ow. 

 

My lips tingle, and I realize who that is.

 

It’s  _ him _ . The one with the blue eyes. 

 

The-

 

The blue eyed boy..

 

Who was named… Sulka.

 

Feather.

 

And…

 

I loved him.

 

Memories hit me like a truck, and the pain never came.

 

We were friends, and Sulka used to braid my hair for me. Used to say it looked like he was touching the sun’s rays. Then, in fifth grade, realized my hair wasn’t as hot, destructive. Seventh grade, when he first kissed my cheek, eighth when he first blushed when seeing me in a dress. Ninth grade, when he let me braid  _ his _ too long hair everyday. Tenth grade when we had our first big fight because of a girl I liked. A week later when he realized she was a celebrity, and apologized, mumbling. Eleventh grade when he asked me to the movies, but I was too- too-

 

Ah, what’s that word?

 

Oblivious. I said yes, and he kissed me when we were back home, and I blushed for fifteen minutes straight. 

 

And then. Twelfth grade, when-

 

When-

 

What happened?

 

Our eyes met, and I saw what happened. 

 

There was a  _ fire _ . 

 

And my fami-

 

“-ly. Where’s my family, Sulka?” I say, a pound of gravel in my throat. 

 

His eyes flicker down, and he says, “They’re-”

 

_ Gone. Missing. Couldn’t be found. Dead. _

 

“-outside.”

 

Relief, washing through my body, like the Ni- Niagr- Niagara Falls. 

 

I look at him, and give him a smile. My hands and arms  _ finally  _ respond to me, and I reach out for him-

 

“I still want my hugs,” I say, very conscious of my coma breath. He bites his lip before coming forward, wrapping me up in a cocoon of warmth. 

 

“I love you too,” he says. 

 

Later, I brush my mouth. He asks if he can kiss me.


End file.
